


House Wife

by Joe (SparxandJoe)



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Eddie, Eddie works as a tailor, First Person POV but trust me, I wrote this a long time ago for a different ship but it fit these two way better, Like really severe Stockholm, M/M, Outlast: Whistleblower, Stockholm Syndrome, no editing we die like men, they have been out of the asylum for a while, top waylon, you’re welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29651343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparxandJoe/pseuds/Joe
Summary: Waylon is a good little housewife waiting for his husband to come home.
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Waylon Park/Eddie Gluskin
Kudos: 15





	1. Waylon’s POV

**Author's Note:**

> After being away from Mount Massive and the morphogenic engine for so long, Eddie has mostly accepted that Waylon is Not-a-Woman(tm)...mostly. Hopefully that won’t be a problem for any readers, if so, my bad dawg.
> 
> This is really old and started out as a different pairing so go easy on me-

Darkness encompassed the room; I glanced at the heavy curtains covering the windows and had an urge to feel the material between my fingers. Standing up slowly from my spot on the floor, I reached out and lightly brushed my fingers against the long drapes. My fingertips placed themselves on either side of the thick fabric and gently rubbed it between them. I delighted in the softness of it and marveled at how it could still be so firm at the same time. The motion of my hands caused the curtain to move and allow some fresh light into the scene.

Vibrant rays of golden sun poured through the glass and splashed over my face, replacing the cool darkness with a tingly kind of warmth. I sighed at the brilliant colours of the outside world that seemed so dull. A few years ago I'd be trying my hardest to climb out of this window and run free under the gorgeous sunlight.

But now, the idea of leaving makes me feel sick. I never want to go back to the kind of life I used to have. I'm happy here. With a little bit of aggravated force I yanked the curtain shut and went to curl up in the large beanbag chair in the corner of the room. Eddie should be home any time now...all I have to do is be patient. It's only been eight hours and -I stole a glance at the clock- 12 minutes. Any second, he'll walk through the front door and come up to be with me. I sighed again, scratching at the bare skin of my shoulder. The itch traveled up my neck and I had to move my collar to scratch it.

I puffed my lips, staring at the ceiling in boredom. A sweet chain of daydreams flooded my mind, painting the roof in vivid pictures of my reunion with my keeper. In the purest definition of the word, I needed to touch him. I craved the firm warmth of his body on mine and there was no doubt in my mind that I would kill a man just for the opportunity to hold his hand. What on earth is taking him so long? He should've been here by now....

Distantly, a small muffled thud was followed by a pause and then a louder, more defined thud. Excitement boiled in my veins as I recognized the sounds as the car door and front door. In a swift move I was soaring over the shaggy carpet straight from the chair to the bedroom door, pressing myself against it with a dull whine. The footsteps were too soft to hear so I rushed to the bed and laid on my side, bending the knee furthest from the entrance and bringing it upwards to show it the ceiling; my arm was bent supporting my head as I went through a list of possible faces fit for a seductive greeting. Anxiety gripped at my chest as the house was now fully silent. Creeping off of the bed and straightening the comforter, I peeked my head out of the room to check and make sure I wasn't going crazy.

Everything seemed untouched and quiet, other than a coat on the rack downstairs that wasn't there before. I would never dare to actually step out into the hallway without permission, so I ducked back into the vapidity and waited patiently on the floor. A weighty set of feet made a noisy uphill voyage and as I counted the stairs my heart raced faster the closer the number grew to the total of 24. Every day I waited, every day I counted, every day I greeted, and every day I fell a little further in love. At this point it felt like my heart had no more space, like it could burst any time I saw him.

Stiffening silence struck the house as the 25th count marked the sudden halt in my lover's progress of meeting me. A frustrated grunt puffed from my scowling nose. What now!? I paced back and forth, futilely trying to ease my nerves. Door-hinges cried out, the beam of hallway light steadily stretched further across the floor, causing me to still in my actions. A familiar giddiness bubbled up inside me and popped my cap off when the silhouette of my sweet Romeo was unveiled. I sprang forward, blindly attached myself to the figure in front of me and took a in a deep breath of that heavenly scent I'd been missing all day. The sheets always had a faint remnant of his smell but not nearly enough to satiate my endorphin-related needs. As I greedily inhaled the perfection of his fragrance, his voice enunciated my name in a very flat tone, the only bit of emphasis being on the 'a.’ 

Haste shot through my bones, arms snapping down to my sides while my freshly glossed eyes found something to rest on. He was holding two vaguely yellow things in his hands, that's odd, he's never brought anything like that home from work before....

Once my eyes adjusted to the light staining the room, I was able to inspect the suspicious objects more closely. No-... My chest sank and I was sure my own eyes had betrayed me for a moment. I desperately looked between his hands, wishing for any sign that my vision was impaired in some way from the sudden flash of yellowed-light caused by Eddie flipping a switch on the wall. However, I found no evidence of this and the objects did in fact turn out to be two familiarly patterned glasses filled about half-way with some sort of alcohol. I can smell it from here.

"You went to the kitchen? Before coming to see me-?" Hearing myself say it made it that much more painful. My gaze rested on his face, begging for an impossible answer. Discoloured eyes briefly roved over me, chilling me to my core, "Don't be ungrateful." His next batch of words shot through me like a harpoon and panic soon engulfed my overall being. Immediate denials spilled from my mouth and just wouldn't stop flowing into the air between us. I couldn't say sorry enough if I tried. Freshly scorched, my face grew darker as he dismissed my frenzied babbling with a single soft phrase that I heard from him many times every day and I knew was absolutely true each time he spoke the two plush and rounded words, 

"I know."

A chilly hand cupped my cheek and I shamefully pressed my face further into the caress. “I didn't mean to be rude, I just really missed you.” Luckily, Eddie was such a kind man; I was told to drink and received a gracious kiss on the forehead. Overpowered by the display of endearment, I obeyed with haste; hoping for a taste of something more than just the beverage in my hand. Apparently it wasn't enough because he gazed down at me expectantly. "Put the rest in your mouth," a squeak I'm sure Eddie couldn't hear squeezed out of my windpipes, "And hold it there." 

Fuck.

Could he be more seductive?

Mouth freshly full of warming alcohol, I waited for further instruction. Instead, I was blessed by the tongue of a seraph who knew exactly how and where to move against my neck. Trembling with anticipation, I grabbed a handful of the side of his shirt as I nearly choked on the mouthful of fluid. The scotch had adjusted to my internal temperature and was starting to make my tongue feel numb. The well-dressed man in front of me sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh of my neck, causing my throat to bounce painfully due to the noise it was producing not being able to escape through my mouth.


	2. Eddie’s POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of what happened.

I waved goodbye to my slew of mannequins, adorned with half finished gowns. I looked at the ring on my finger and sighed contently. A happy reminder that kept me going throughout the day.

I hurried out to my car and drove home faster than I should have. It had been a long night and I was in need of some relief. I fiddled with my keys in the doorknob, being sure to make some noise. I closed the door heavily and went to the kitchen, pouring two glasses of scotch.

Taking it slow, I made my way up to my room. I stepped on each stair with calculated precision, using my weight to make my shoes clack against the wood and create just the right tone. Not too loud, not too soft; pausing on the last step to allow for anticipation. As I padded down the short hall, I could hear soft sounds of fidgeting. With the tip of my shoe, I slowly pushed the door open; allowing a collared, nude man to launch himself at me.

The man's face crashed into my abdomen, before he wrapped himself around my waist. The force of the collision would have knocked me back for sure if I wasn't expecting it. Instead, it only jostled the alcohol in my hands. Luckily not enough to have spilt it.

"Waylon." I gave him permission to speak. He took this as a warning and let go of me quickly, looking me up and down. His eyes flicked between my hands and then settled on my face. "You went to the kitchen before coming to see me?" He had the most pathetically disheartened look I'd seen on him in a long time. Rather than entertaining his disappointment, I offered him one of the glasses. "Don't be ungrateful." I toned. Waylon's eyes widened and he shook his head, "N-No, sir- I didn't mean-"

"I know." I dismissed him lightly, patting his cheek. He leaned into my hand and closed his eyes diffidently. "Go on, have a drink." I purred as I pulled his face closer to plant a kiss between his sunken eyebrows. Waylon wasted no time standing up straight and swigging a mouthful of Scotch, looking up at me expectantly. "Put the rest of it in your mouth and hold it there." Waylon did as he was told, never once taking his eyes off me. I leaned forward, kissing down his jaw. He flushed and started to shiver nervously. My tongue flattened and pressed to his neck, sliding around smoothly; a small, pitiful sound came from the bottom of his throat. I bit down on the base of his neck listening intently on the way he struggled with keeping his mouth full. Slowly, I dragged my tongue up the side of his face, stopping at his ear. I took his earlobe between my teeth, gently rolling it around before breathing a short whisper, "Swallow it." I demanded, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him closer.

Waylon gulped audibly, letting out a shaky breath while carefully reaching up to put his arms around me. "Eddie, sweetheart- please... I've waited all day..." he whimpered, hips jerking as he struggled to contain himself. "I've been so good, please-" Waylon's voice came in quivering, humid puffs. Taking a firm hold on his chin, I lifted his face and stared at him until he started to squirm. I then gingerly placed my lips on his and he was quaking under the pressure of suppressing his every instinct. He knew better than to do anything without being told, "Such a good girl... I'd say you've earned a treat," My mouth rose smugly at the corners. "Fetch."

My grin grew higher as I watched my wife scramble away in a frenzy. I calmly sat on the edge of the bed; Waylon darted over, tossing the contents of his right hand onto the bed next to me as he began to clumsily unbutton my shirt. He swallowed hard and looked at me with an expression so flushed and full of longing that I almost pitied him. Perhaps I actually did feel pity, because when he stuttered, "May I-...May I please h-have a kiss?" I felt something in my chest drop. So I cooly raised my eyebrows and deepened my voice, "You may." My darling’s eyes lit up as if I had just told him he'd won the lottery. He hurriedly pressed his face to mine; within seconds our tongues were tangled and he was struggling with my belt buckle. "I love you." He huffed between rough kisses. "I know." I returned in a somewhat more dignified way.

Waylon finally got my pants down, but he hadn't bothered taking my shirt off all the way. I scooted back on the bed and turned so that I was laying normally. Waylon crawled up and fumbled with the tube he retrieved earlier. He managed to get it opened and carelessly squeezed it's contents out onto his hand. Staring at me with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, he waited, so eager yet patient. 

I lifted my legs and spread them apart, slowly setting them back down on the bed; I motioned for him to come closer by moving my head up and to the right. Waylon perched himself between my legs like it was his natural habitat. He began to rub his lube coated hand over his cock, drawing sharp breaths while gripping my knee. I watched him shamelessly start to jerk himself off between my legs, gazing so intensely that I began to blush a little myself.

I licked my lips, following every move his hand made; paying attention to all of the times his dick twitched under his own touch. "Do it." I murmured, bringing my legs up onto his shoulders. I caught a glance of that crazed, hungry look; but I didn't get to see it for very long because in a fraction of a second a cold, slick finger was working it's way inside me. My vision blurred slightly when he pushed on my prostate like it was my power button. I groaned softly as a second finger found it's way in and started moving away from the previous digit. Waylon was insanely focused on my rectum, keeping his eyes glued to where his fingers moved in rhythm. "I'm getting impatient, Darling." My voice rose slightly towards the end of the endearment as he pressed down on that squishy self-destruct button again.

"Relax, I want you to feel as good as possible," Waylon started to trail small kisses down my thigh. "That way you'll come to me first the next time you get home." He muttered the last part to himself, working a third finger in to join the party. As Waylon leaned down, my legs were pressed closer to my body, leaving me in a somewhat awkward position. Apparently it was a strategic move, because he was able to fit his fingers all the way down to the knuckles, getting me all nice and lubed up while also slowly helping me to be able to accommodate his size. His fingers came out all a once with a small pop drowning in a lewd, wet sound.

Waylon stared down at me for what seemed like an eternity, just drinking in the scenery; slowly reaching to touch himself. "Darling-" I panted softly. "If you don't fuck me right this instant, I swear to- GOD-!" He didn't let me finish before he obediently plunged his cock into my ass. After that he sunk the rest of the way in, letting me adjust while my body clenched furiously at the invading object in an attempt to squeeze it out. I could faintly hear his breath hitching above me. "Move slowly." I grunted the words out, yanking his face down to mine by grabbing the ring on his collar. I didn't have to tell him that I desperately needed his tongue in my mouth, he seemed to already know that.

Our mouths mingled violently, creating a vulgar whirlwind of suction and slurping sounds. He began rocking his hips into mine with a smooth ease, practically shaking with the effort it took to force himself to go slow. My sweet wife whined quietly next to my ear, slipping in and out easily, latching onto my hand. I squeezed back, heaving low, shallow breaths as I tried to adapt to having so much moving inside me. At first it was a pinching, raw kind of pain; almost enough to start setting off unsavory flashbacks, but it gradually settled into a dull twinge every now and then. The pleasure was rapidly starting to outweigh the discomfort and before I knew it I was panting like a bitch in heat, dying for more.

I clasped my left hand at the base of his neck, keeping his head still as I nipped at the soft skin behind his jaw. "Oh Da-ah!" I groaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Put my legs around your waist and give me all you've got." I growled, pressing my face into his neck. I could feel him physically perk at the request.

My legs were guided down into spread eagle, then even lower and held gently against his sides. I wrapped my legs around him and as soon as I did he was mercilessly grinding me into the mattress. This caused several loud strings of raunchy, humiliating noises to fight their way out of my throat. “Listen to you, Eddie. Singing so nice for me. Thank-you, thank-you-“ Before my eyes screwed shut, I saw Waylon's face passing from salmon to burgundy. I squeezed them closed tighter, wringing out small tears from the corners as I writhed under the relentless pounding. "M-M-Ah~...." I panted heavily, not being able to help all of the drool leaking from the corner of my mouth and soaking into the pillow below. "Fuck- Fuck, Waylon!" I clung to his shoulders, mewling and singing his praise. "So good-..Ngh" I bit my lip in a vain attempt to muffle myself. I lost all hope of that goal as I felt a hot spurt start to take up whatever room there was left in me. Waylon bit down on the base of my neck and I shot a hot one from his chest to mine.

I laid there, rolling in my afterglow, breathing like a freshly surfaced diver. Vaguely watching the man above me, I saw his chest heaving and his fixated stare was on me again. "Would you like a picture, dear?" I said quietly, looking up at his unwavering expression. He bent towards me unbearably slow and dragged his flattened tongue from the bottom of my jaw to brim of my eye, all the while he was pulling out. I started to laugh, silently at first but the air blowing from my nostrils started to gain a low humming chuckle as it's chorus. Waylon heard me laugh and his godly erotic expression lifted into a light and airy smile. He kissed me sweetly, interrupting my mute laughter. For a moment or two, Waylon stayed perched above me, eyeballing me all to hell until he eventually sat back and I followed. "You take such good care of me, Dearest.” I purred, flattening my hands on his chest. "I could say the same to you, sir." He tugged at the loop of leather around his neck. "Anything for my precious wife." I teased, moving to stand up.

An unsteady hand shot out and grabbed my arm, loosening it's grip immediately but staying in place. "Wait...Eddie...Would you-" He struggled, staring down at the soiled bed spread, his face was bright and the tips of his ears were dark red. I grinned a little smugly at the sight before me. How could I not be proud of having the most gracious, beautiful girlie at my beck and call? My grin spread like fire, "What is it, darling?" I coaxed coyly. 

"Would you stay..? J-Just for a little while..." He rushed to add the last part as if it would have any impact on my answer. Such an innocent request, asked so sincerely... This is such a good girl I have. My shocked expression softly melted into a small, yet warm gaze. "But of course I will." I scooted back onto the bed and held my arms up.

His face lit up again and he wasted no time straddling my hips and attaching himself to my torso. I sighed softly, put my arms around him and gently rubbed his head. "Such good manners, asking so nicely. I ought to come visit you first thing when I get home from now on, huh?" Waylon nodded quickly, raising his head to look up at me, "Yes, please, that's what I want." I grabbed his chin, turned his head and kissed his cheek gingerly. "Consider it done, pet~"


End file.
